


Find You In Another

by ThatSoChangeableChick



Series: Hero to a Bond [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Jay and Cass are adopted together AU, Bat Family, Brother-Sister Relationships, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Inner Dialogue, Jason Todd is Robin, family fun times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSoChangeableChick/pseuds/ThatSoChangeableChick
Summary: A moment in the life of Jason Todd. Adoptive Son of Bruce Wayne.And, Now-Legally Adopted Older Brother of Cassandra Cain.-He'd known something was up when Cass didn't distract him from his trigonometry homework. Known it.He arched a brow, "You going to come out from under the table, Cass?" Jason tried. Cass shook her head, frowned a little, lower lip jutted out and dimples clenched, and that bad, was it?





	Find You In Another

He didn't know where the hell he'd ended up. For certain it was somewhere in Wayne Manor's west wing, upper levels, definitely not the attic but that was about it. It was barren, devoid of life and still not a single dust particle swirled in sight. It looked abandoned, left to the clean-freak poltergeists to have their wicked way with it.

On the streets, at least directions made sense. This was antiquated, wealthy till shitting diamonds is the norm type directions, and Jason didn't understand it for shit.

He was in a long, narrow hall with a vague porcelain art décor and oiled portraits of dead people looking down on him. He would've pulled a face at them but he'd rather not test the spirits when his fate is so out of hand. Instead Jason slumped, kicked his woolen socked feet and harrumphed into the next room to his left.

It was a lounge, another one, white sheets covered the furniture and a bookcase of financial journals lined the walls behind a desk about a kick away from the dumpster. He slumped out, wandered into a different room. He didn't even know what this was, a foyer? There were two couches, firm backed and hard facing one another and that was it.

That was a pointless room. A pointless room that Bruce could rent out to kids on Jason's block – old block, on Jason's old block. He lived here now, had to remember that, buttfuck silly of him not to remember that.

The next room was a study of some sort and he would've backed out, like the others but he had the distinct impression there was someone in here. He didn't hear anything except his own heartbeat, loud in his ears and the shuffle beneath his socks on old wood but there was a tilt in his senses that yes, there was definitely someone here.

"Bruce?" he called, further into the study, rounded two covered couches to the regal giant desk and its even more pretentious armchair. Silly. It wasn't Bruce, why would Batman be in here? He was still at work, it was why Jason had decided to roam his house and gotten lost in the process.

He stopped a few feet from the desk, noticed the shadow skimming the closed bottom of it and sucked his teeth. It wasn’t – Jason clambered onto the desk, nearly knocked off an old, probably priceless lamp and peered underneath. He grinned, "Hey, Cass," he murmured.

As per mc-freaking usual, Cass wasn't surprised. There was a little defeated grimace though, maybe not at Jason's presence but at something she couldn't wrap her head around. He noticed the thin book tucked beneath her folded knee, the purplish bags weighed beneath dark blues, her chopped hair in disarray more from lack of sleep than with it.

Cass was still in Bruce's puffy Yale University, Gotham City sweater and the three pairs of winter socks she hadn't been able to choose between. It was way into the afternoon and by now, Cass was usually wide-awake, a mixture of clasped stamina and excitement and cheek. Ready to jump on the walls, or down on the mats, or bolt into the tree line, or trail after Bruce until sufficient attention was received or badger Jason until he was thoroughly distracted and three quarters of a way through a kata without realizing it.

He'd known something was up when Cass didn't distract him from his trigonometry homework. Known it.

He arched a brow, "You going to come out from under the table, Cass?" Jason tried. Cass shook her head, frowned a little, lower lip jutted out and dimples clenched, and that bad, was it? He climbed down onto the carpet, it wasn't as itchy as he expected, "Can I come in?" he waited.

Cass swallowed and scooted further to one side, right against the folder cabinet and let Jason squeeze in beside his now-legally little sister. He didn't really know what to do from here on but in the stories, siblings spent time with one another, right? Jason unhinged the book from his hind as Cass grunted, knocked her elbow into the wall and stole it back.

"Oh, come on. I can help you read it, if you want," he said. He'd somehow managed to irritate her but that wasn't a new feeling around Jason. His arms folded, knee bracketed by her shoulder, "Look. I know you can't read for shit right now but I was also shit and I got better. You can do it, Cass, probably be writing haikus on movement and dynamic flow before shits stopped steaming."

Her head tilted and Jason knew, knew she'd mimic his voice with creepy likeness, "…shits stopped steaming…" Cass repeated, as predicted, flatter than he'd figured though and his voice definitely wasn't as scratched or high pitched.

His shoulders jostled and jaw squared in the way he knew didn't look as tough as he wished it did, "It's just something crime alley kids say. You get what I meant right though?" he checked. It was a poor diversion technique and he itched his knee, before tucking his hands underneath his armpits. The heating didn't roam this far into the Manor and he was still in his thin Gotham Academy dress shirt.

Her bottom lip was sucked, brow furrowed and he released a breath when she nodded.

"Good," he praised, arms wide, "Now why the fuck we underneath a desk that was on the titanic?" Fuck. Cass wouldn't understand that. "I mean," he cleared his throat and Cass fingered the worn spine of the book, "You could've practiced anywhere. Why here?" There. That sounded about right.

There were times he didn't feel like Robin. That Robin's magic didn't soak into his private life was a short sacrifice to pay for being B-Man's crime-fighting partner. In answer Cass shrugged and exhaled, shoulders slumped and sweater drooped to reveal a black collar underneath. Jason also liked to triple layer, even if he tried really hard to curb it in public.

It must be a street rat quirk.

"It is quiet," Cass managed. Written word was only a little better than verbal speech for Cass, which really said it all. Her brow was pursed, sweat lined her forehead and tawny olive skin had paled in it. "I didn't – Alfred try help, didn’t want it," Cass shrugged. Like it was that simple to duck out from Alfred when he became concerned.

He squished himself in to give Cass more space, "…why not? He's like the least judgmental person in this joint, any joint I reckon." Cass clenched the paperback, shadowed and smaller by the second in the fold of the desk.

"I don't want it," she growled, arm coiled to toss the paperback far before she dropped it, curled further in on herself. It was a posture of defeat he'd embodied under cover of darkness way too many times, "Go to school, have friends; normal-life. Not for me. It wrong," Cass concluded.

He mulled a Robin response and it was chewed out as, "That's bullshit." His folded arms tightened, mostly for warmth, a little in frustration. "You think gutter trash like myself should be underneath a desk that could fit in the queen's castle? And allowed here? Like, willingly, with open arms and shit."

Cass blinked, wide-eyed and a little furrowed. Sort of slowly translating Jason's verbal quirks, it was the thick Crime Alley dialect that'd never fully abandon him, despite Alfred's classes on higher societies speech. That just wasn't him, no matter how he wished it. Not yet, at least.

"Nah," Jason snorted, "Course not. But we're here, in a goddamned opportunity of a lifetime and it'd be so fucking twisted if we don't jump at it while we can. Like, I don't know about you, Cass but I definitely didn't dream this up, so I'm not wasting jack-shit."

His arms refolded, sucked his mouth and definitely didn't look as dignified as B did in a firm opinion. He was really grateful she didn't laugh at it, instead the sleeves swallowed her knuckles and tension trickled from her back with a thoughtful hum.

Her head tilted, lips twitched and nose scrunched, "Bruce loves you," Cass offered.

He felt his cheeks flush, folded arms tight as he shrugged, "Loves a strong word, Cass. You guys are on the same wavelength, spiritual projection or some shit, if he loves anyone it'd be you – and Goldie, even if that asshole doesn't come around a lot and you're not allowed to fucking tell him that."

Her pout is extenuated by dimples, "Who? Bruce or 'Goldie'?" Cass murmured.

His shoulders jostled harder, bashed into the desk and he clamped his fists back underneath his armpits, "Both, I don't know. You're freaking me out Cass, just let's get out from underneath this forgotten table and find Alfie. It's nearly dinner time and then B will be back, it's not rocket science."

He tried to muscle out but Cass practically flopped atop his shoulder for an ill-conceived cuddle. He'd almost forgotten she did this at importune moments, a take-down attack with a mellow hold and Jason stiffened, as per usual. "…what the hell are you doing?" he whined. It wasn't exactly the question he wanted answered but 'why' always sounded too pathetic.

"Hug," Cass declared, "I love you. Good big brother."

His ears flushed and just above his sternum, a liquid fire sloshed as Cass huffed all over him. It's like she'd been reintroduced to the concept of snuggles and refused to be parted. It just felt weird, he didn't do anything of value to deserve that, "That's nice. You're good too, Cass?" Jason staggered and stumbled.

Cass nodded into Jason's collar. Her chopped hair scratched and Jason swallowed. He was allowed to do this. This was his life now. His back began to uncoil, destressed in motion. It was just his little sister, people hugged their little sisters.

"Jason," he jostled at Bruce's boomed voice, "Cassandra." His head had firmly connected with the desk and he hissed, grimaced into his knees. Her sympathetic wince was blanketed in a snicker and Jason glared. Cass pulled a face, blurred in his vision. He didn't want B to witness this.

Bruce crouched beside the pretentious desk chair, "Is there a reason you're underneath the table?" he checked, amused and tired. It'd definitely been a difficult day at work, with a night still to dusk. B shouldn't be kept.

He blinked past tears, "We aren't late for dinner, are we?" Last time Jason did that, they'd fallen behind on casework and Two-Face flipped his coin earlier than expected, which definitely hadn't landed on a positive head.

Cass handed Bruce the book, their sights aligned in telepathic bond communication, as per usual. In that time, Jason shook of the damage, exhaled and crawled out from underneath the desk. Bruce offered Cass a hand out and despite how Cass could kick Batman's ass, she took it. He was really lucky he knew Cass.

He was really lucky to know them both, be able to witness this. Really shouldn't pry like this.

His socks scuffed into the carpet. He should head to Alfred, maybe he wanted help to set the table? He would've bolted, even when Cass snagged his shirt if it wasn't for her pointed look at Bruce. It was a look that could ground a seagull with fish in the sea. Even Jason could decipher it.

And, it'd stabbed a sharp knife into his chest. He wasn't ready to ask Bruce for more, not until he'd begun to pay it back so it was a kind thought, but it didn't fit. Not yet. He unlatched Cass, "Get off. Everything's good, weirdo," he tried to lighten.

Except he'd shoved Cass too hard. Her inch disadvantage abruptly sharpened as she winced against the hard desk. He hadn't meant to do that. Bruce all but towered forward, "Jason. We don't use force inside the Manor –" Yes, they'd both heard the lecture. It'd been a point of pride that it was directed at Cass more than Jason.

"I know. I didn't mean it," he backed and nodded at Cass, "Sorry. We done here? Can I go?" Jason checked, head lifted to match B's shadowed. His frown had surfaced and Jason exhaled, "Look. I know your pissed B but Cass is chill, it was a mistake and I won't do it again. I promise, swear on –"

"Chilidog?" Cass offered. Her smile a little evil.

His arms crossed, fired back, "If that's what it takes, Princess." Chilidogs was a low blow but whatever made Cass feel better about his mistake. It was a standoff and while Cass took apart human movement, Jason was a street rat born and bred. His folk didn't run from fights.

Her hand outstretched, gray sleeve flopped and cheeks sucked, "I forgive," Cass declared. Jason took that hand and gave it a firm shake, momentarily defrosted and seriously nodded. He wouldn't let Cass down, he refused and it's not like Cass would let him live it down. He could trust in that, so he quickly sidled to her side as Bruce ushered them out.

"Extensional bargains aside," Bruce mused, all twitched mouth and tension abandoned, "Alfred expected us for dinner five minutes ago, unless you want to make another bargain to forego that." He held their shoulders to the hall, squeezed once and closed the door behind them.

Cass's face instinctively scrunched. The insinuation really did reek. Cass tipped her head to eye Bruce and Jason scoffed, "There isn't much better than Alfie's cooking, B." Except maybe the Manor and the occupants themselves.

Roundabout here Jason recognized that Bruce fully expected Jason to say that, probably word for word and paid for it with a soft-eyed smirk. He really wanted to swallow down his mistake but it was stuck, flushed at his neckline and a lodge beside it. He mistakenly banged into Cass's shoulder and was thankfully shoved back after a weirded look.

Just until Cass caught sight of him and requisitioned his elbow, squished it close and bounced towards Bruce. He racked up a punch-me grin, "Like B doesn't think it too. Street rat or not, everyone can tell gods work on earth," Jason proclaimed. Cassandra nodded, dramatized importance, and with full agreement.

Bruce exhaled, "You're not a street rat, Jason. Neither is Cassandra. You are both my children, and we are all going to be late," he noted, incessantly serious and Cass snickered at Bruce's expense. Jason kind of loved it when Alfred expressed disapproval at B's behavior, it meant not even B was above divine handiwork.

In a momentary distraction of scratching at curly locks, Cass captured Bruce's hand and allowed herself to be dragged down the hall without B changing his pace. He whistled, "Now that takes strength, B." Cass flashed a squinty-eyed grin from behind B's back. He stuck his tongue out.

B arched a brow, perfectly aware of it all and heaved Cass underneath an arm to musical bubbly giggles. B had a point to excel at and Jason knew, cocksure grin and all that B wouldn't stop there. He's pretty certain Cass counted on it. "Perhaps two of you can pose a challenge," Bruce allowed, hand outstretched and invited.

"You're on, B," Jason would take that dare, "You don't want the training mats to soften the blow?"

Bruce grunted, "And allow you to bulk up on Alfred's dinner? No, I don't think so." Jason snickered because B was the greatest, the actual best. He didn't have to play along, if anyone wondered if Batman challenged teenagers to games which he would lose then he wouldn't have believed it. Like it _was_ Batman and Robin, but there was also _Batman_.

He swiveled to face Bruce, "Just try and catch me, B-Man," Jason hollered.

He sprinted through a side door, into the overly large hall with excellent acoustics, skirted underneath an arch and stuttered to a halt on the tiled kitchen floor. Jason swallowed as Alfred lifted his head from the final napkin, definitely should've realized Alfie would be at the finish line.

Jason hadn't just broken rule number two in the Manor. Maybe if he believed it, Alfie would too. He cleared his throat, "Hi Alfie –" Here Jason yelped, kidnapped beneath Bruce's arm. He elbowed his adoptive father's ribs and was rewarded by a low huff. "It was B's idea!" Jason hurried to clarify beneath Alfred's exasperation.

After all, Alfred did have three wayward kids to look after.

In piggyback mode Cass nodded importantly in agreement. Bruce huffingly snickered, far-too-delicately parked Jason down and jostled Cassandra. His little sister chuckled, ducked behind B's throat and hugged, lean limbs and all.

It's here he'd spotted the dishes, plates, napkins, forks and knives, bread buns and salads over the table, and the main dish was always the final centerpiece. It might've been a high-class Costco bulk-buy of cowboy pie but better. _Way_ better.

Holiday catalogue worthy. Except this was the norm, every day in and out. Un-fucking real. Except it wasn't. Except it was ten thousand times better since he could eat it now, experience it, rather than longingly stare at it and wishing his stomach would halt its grumble.

He smiled crooked angles and ducked into his collar. "Master Bruce," Alfred greeted, "Miss Cassandra." Cass waved a hand. Probably, because technically Cass hadn't broken the 'no running in the Manor' rule. Just like that, their mischief subsided in favor of glorious food.

Sooner rather than later dinner was served, beginning with a slight disapproval on conduct but more than enough forgiving good cheer to fill their dishes. It was cowboy pie and once again, around Jason's fifteenth gobble he's distracted by Cass's ability to stuff and swallow more than Bruce could.

He flicked mash potatoes at her, withstood Alfred's disapproval, kidnapped more mash potatoes off Cass's plate and was bestowed Bruce's extra cabbage salad. He loved salad, must've been the years of having zilch of it but lather vegetables up in whatever and Jason would eat it. This differed from Cass, who ate without discrimination or pause, filling cheeks like a chipmunk for winter and Bruce, who ate as an average human of his extracurricular activities deigned.

Which was, at this point, two and half plate full.

Jason wasn't the oddest person in the joint. It shouldn't have brought as much relief as it did. He shouldn't have felt this lucky, but he did, who dictated in all the world that he'd find a place like this. That he'd find this family and well, that they'd find him.

Lucky didn't begin to cut it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feedback me so I know what you like ~*~*~~~*


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